


down came the rain and washed the spider out

by thewalrus_said



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Canon-Typical Body Horror, Emetophobia, M/M, Spiders, Web!Martin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-26
Updated: 2020-05-26
Packaged: 2021-03-03 01:20:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,474
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24396433
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thewalrus_said/pseuds/thewalrus_said
Summary: Annabelle Cane makes her proposal.
Relationships: Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist
Comments: 6
Kudos: 89





	down came the rain and washed the spider out

**Author's Note:**

> DOUBLE FIC DAY WOOOO, and my first venture into canonverse horror in fic.
> 
> My mental image of where I predict/hope the Annabelle Cane stuff winds up was getting so crystal-clear in my head I figured I better put it down on paper. Screen. What have you. So here's this! Enjoy!

Annabelle Cane stood across from Martin in the burnt-out remains of the Institute, arms crossed. “Congratulations,” she said. “You did what you set out to do.”

“Part of it,” Martin replied warily. Behind him, he could hear Jon thrashing in the cocoon of spiderwebs that held him tightly in place.

She grinned. “Yes, that was what I wanted to talk to you about.” She uncrossed her arms and strolled a step closer. With an effort, Martin made himself stay in place. “You’ve achieved your primary goal,” Annabelle went on, “that of killing Jonah Magnus. But you had another goal, didn’t you?” Her eyes, glinting in the light from the windows, pinned him in place; not that he would have gone anywhere anyway. “You want to put the world back together.”

Martin swallowed. “It was on the list, I’ll admit.”

Annabelle grinned like the spider that caught the fly. “I can help with that.”

Martin hadn’t been surprised by anything, properly surprised, since Jon had killed Not-Sasha; this statement didn’t even come close. “Let me guess what you want in return.” She didn’t say anything, just kept grinning, and he sighed. “Honestly, Annabelle, I’m not impressed. First you try and convince me I’m too weak to keep up with Jon, which,  _ come on, _ and when that doesn’t work you skip right to ending the apocalypse? If this is your A-game, I’d love to see you on a bad day.”

Some of the demonic joy went out of Annabelle’s eyes, and she sucked her teeth. After a moment she gave a dry little chuckle. “Well, Simon did warn me about you. My own fault for not listening.”

Now it was Martin’s turn to cross his arms and widen his stance. “Offer it to me properly. No games, no manipulation. Just a statement of terms.”

She shrugged. “I want you to pledge yourself to the Web, Martin Blackwood. Do so and I’ll reverse what Jonah Magnus did, banish the entities to a new plane, and free all those poor suffering souls.”

Martin rolled his eyes. “Spare me the fake empathy, Mother of Puppets. How do I even know you can do it?”

She laughed. “You want proof of concept?”

“You’re an avatar of the Great Manipulator,” Martin said. “If you were telling me the whole truth I’d be shocked.”

Annabelle grew serious. “Martin, I swear to you on my link to my patron, not a word I’ve said to you today is a lie.”

“Today.”

She grinned again, her teeth flashing white. “Alright. Name the entity.”

Martin didn’t hesitate. “The End.” If Jon wouldn’t smite Oliver Banks, Martin would have to do it himself.

Annabelle closed her eyes. A spider crawled up from her back over her shoulder and disappeared down the front of her shirt. “Done,” she said, meeting his gaze again. “Confirm it with your Archivist if you like, but the Terminus is gone from this world and all its victims have been released.”

Steeling himself, Martin turned and looked at Jon, whose eyes were blown wide, gaze vacant, as he hung in midair. After a moment he came back to himself, looked at Martin, and nodded.

He turned back to Annabelle. “Alright, so you can do it. And all you want is me to become an avatar?” She nodded. “And then, what, I move into your basement and do your bidding?”

She chortled, head tipping back in mirth. “Not at all. You can do whatever you like after. Keep your Archivist, keep your friends, choose your own path. You may find that it aligns with mine more often than it otherwise might have, but your will will be your own.”

“Seems out of character for, well. You.”

Another shrug. “Consider it a signing bonus for an exemplary candidate.”

Martin narrowed his eyes. “So why me? If you just want talent for your god, why choose me?”

“Martin,” she said firmly. “Every avatar on the planet has been in a tizzy for you since you pulled one over on good old Jonah. Why do you think Peter Lukas picked you, of all the Institute’s staff? You’re the most enticing character the world has seen in quite some time, and I want to lock you down for my side.” The spider crawled out of her shirt again and disappeared down her back. “Rest assured, if it wasn’t me, someone else would have come for you. I had a job keeping dear Simon off your backs all these months, believe me. You wouldn’t have been able to gad about unaligned forever, even under the Archivist’s protection. But I’m the only one who can offer you the world as it was.”

Martin looked at her. The Mother of Puppets, and every liar’s instinct in Martin’s body was screaming that she was telling him the truth. “Can I have a moment to talk it over with my partner?”

“Of course.” She snapped her fingers. From behind him, Martin heard the sound of spiderwebs twanging as they severed. She turned and made for the corner. “Take as long as you like,” she called over her shoulder. “I know it’s a big decision.”

Martin turned and made himself walk, not run, to Jon, who was on his knees retching as the webs extracted themselves from where they had been shoved down his throat. “Are you alright?” he murmured, rubbing a hand down Jon’s back.

Jon wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “I’ll be alright. Help me up.” Martin got his hands under Jon’s elbows and lifted; Jon’s legs shook but kept him upright. “Well, that was unpleasant,” Jon muttered, then met Martin’s gaze. “Are  _ you _ alright?”

Martin blew air out of his cheeks. “It’s unsettling, being the full focus of her attention,” he said. “Like she could see right through me to the back of my head and knew everything that kept me ticking.”

“I can imagine.”

They stood there for a moment, together and quiet, and then Jon put his hand to the side of Martin’s face. “I feel it incumbent upon me to tell you that you don’t  _ have _ to do this,” he said quietly. “Hers is not the only way.”

Martin shook his head, looking over Jon’s shoulder. “It’s not that. I, I  _ want _ to.” He forced himself to focus on Jon’s face again. “I  _ want _ to say yes, I want the, the power.”  _ I want to be your equal, _ he didn’t say; Jon would only get upset. He seemed to hear it anyway, though, because his fingers tightened on Martin’s cheek and his gaze grew fiercer. “Yeah,” Martin said. “I know.”

Jon relaxed a bit and sighed. “Then what’s stopping you?”

Martin bit his lip. Jon waited, his gaze not unkind where it held Martin as firmly as his hand did. “I’m scared that...” Martin started, unable to make himself finish.

Jon huffed a laugh and offered him a small smile. “Martin, if you think I’m gonna leave you over something like  _ becoming an avatar, _ you haven’t been paying the slightest bit of attention.” His other hand came up to cup Martin’s other cheek. “And no, I didn’t  _ know _ that’s what you were going to say, it’s written all over your face. I’m yours, Martin, whatever you choose now. You’re stuck with me, until you tell me to go.”

“Don’t ever go,” Martin said reflexively, his hands flying up to grip Jon’s.

“That’s that, then.”

Unaccountably, Martin giggled. “You’re right,” he said. “I’m just being silly.”

“Very silly.” Jon tipped their foreheads together. “I feel like I should have a word with you about your priorities,” he said frankly, and Martin let out a cackle of a laugh.

“I love you, Jon.”

“I love you too, Martin.” Jon released Martin’s face to put his hands to his shoulders and push. “Go save the world. I’ll be here when you’re done.”

Wiping his eyes, Martin paced back out to the center of the room. Annabelle unbent herself from where she had been leaning against the far wall and came to meet him. “Have you made your choice?”

“I have.” Martin took a deep breath. “I have one condition.”

“Name it.”

“You got rid of one; that means there are thirteen powers left. Get rid of six more, and give me your word you’ll do the other seven once I’ve done my part.”

Annabelle lifted an eyebrow. “Bold move.”

“I have all the power here,” Martin said. “You want me, badly, and if you renege Jon’ll just kill you anyway. So I’ll do it, but you have to play your cards first. At least some of them. Pick any six you want, but leave the Eye till the second half.”

“Oh, you’re going to be a wonderful addition to the team,” she said, a wide smile practically tearing her face in two. “Let the games begin.”

**Author's Note:**

> Come find me on [Tumblr](http://thewalrus-said.tumblr.com) or [Twitter](http://twitter.com/thewalrus_said) and scream at/with me about future!Web!Martin.


End file.
